Introduction: The Plains Country.
People Looking from the Lodges
Hunting in the Brush Along The River
My Grandmother Lived in Our Lodge
My Grandfather ... Long Before Had Given up the Warpath
I Killed Many Buffalo and My Mother Dressed the Hides
Holding the Pipe to The Sky and To The Earth
"Do Not Go; Wait A Little Longer"
Watch the Men and Older Boys Playing at Sticks
Seventy years ago, when some of the events here recounted took place, Indians were Indians, and the plains were the plains indeed.
Those plains stretched out in limitless rolling swells of prairie until they met the blue sky that on every hand bent down to touch them. In spring brightly green, and spangled with wild flowers, by midsummer this prairie had grown sere and yellow. Clumps of dark green cottonwoods marked the